


The Cornish Stallion

by ideserveyou



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Fights, Flogging, Horses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-23
Updated: 2010-09-24
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideserveyou/pseuds/ideserveyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kai and Arthur have trouble with Mark of Cornwall, and a horse changes hands</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Gift Horse

It is well after dark when Arthur returns to the longhouse, with Kai leaning heavily on his shoulder, mute and exhausted. For politeness' sake, Arthur joins their Cornish visitors around the table, and tells them of Roland's funeral pyre in as few words as may be. Mark is oddly quiet, as he has been all evening; his killing of the Saxon seems to have sobered him. Kai stumbles away to bed without speaking to anyone.

As they break their fast around the high table the next morning, Kai is absent. No-one there remarks on it; but Mark speaks quietly to Arthur, who nods and points in the direction of the west hill.

'I have something here that belongs to you.'  
Kai swings round, startled; lost in his own thoughts, gazing out across the landscape from the vantage point on the slope, he hadn't heard Mark's approaching footsteps.  
'I took this from Pethig last night. I didn't think it right that he should keep it.'  
Mark speaks in a subdued and surprisingly uncertain tone; he is holding the silver Saxon medallion in his big hand. 'It's little enough, I know, after the loss I caused you. But it's yours, if you want it back.'  
Kai can't meet the big warrior's eyes, but he nods and mutters gruffly, 'Thank you.'  
He holds out a hand; but Mark steps closer to him. 'I had your smith mend the chain.' He reaches out and puts the chain gently around Kai's neck.   
'I have more to give you besides, if you wish.' His voice is very quiet; his big hand lingers a little too long on Kai's shoulder. 'I could help you...'  
Kai can't quite believe what he's hearing, but when he dares to look up there is no mistaking the desire in Mark's eyes. He backs away, out of reach.   
'I know. It's too early yet. But perhaps when your grief is less fresh, you and I could talk... we could help each other...'  
'No.' Kai forces the word between clenched teeth.

There is an awkward silence; then Mark says, with uncharacteristic mildness, 'As you wish.'

Kai heaves a sigh of relief as he watches Mark stride away down the hill again.

He would be less relieved if he could see the simmering anger in Mark's face as he goes.

An hour or so later, Kai has also made his way back to the village and is sticking close by Arthur's side, giving Mark no chance of finding him alone again. The Cornish party are preparing to leave, and there is much bustling and shouting before their horses are saddled, their gear is packed, the last missing cloak has been found, and all but their leader are mounted and ready to ride.

Arthur, Llud and Kai come out to the yard to bid them farewell. Arthur is holding the big two-handled mead cup, a traditional courtesy offered to arriving and departing guests.

'You will drink a last draught with us before you go?'

He takes a token sip from the cup and hands it to Mark, who half-drains it at a gulp, then tips his head back with a raucous laugh before handing it up to be passed around his mounted followers.

Then Mark holds up a hand for silence.

'I thank you for your hospitality, Arthur. And I have something to say before I go. To our friend Kai, here.'

Arthur glances sharply at Kai, who feels a tightening in the pit of his stomach, as he does before a battle that he knows will be hard-fought. He wonders what is coming.

But Mark is smiling affably.

'Two things I would give to you, Kai. One, my apology for the killing of your Saxon friend. I could not have known; and you should have spoken of it, to Arthur if not to me; but still I am sorry to have caused you such a loss.'

Everyone is looking at Kai. He wishes the ground would swallow him up, but somehow he manages to bow his head and murmur something polite.

'And two: I would make some reparation to you. This belonged to my late commander, Agdor, killed by that same Saxon. It is now yours.'

There is a murmur from the crowd as a man comes to Mark's side, leading a horse.

And what a horse. Tall, glossy, black as the night and in prime fettle; a battle stallion to excite any warrior's heart. His rich harness gleams; his ears are alert and his red nostrils flaring.

Llud's mouth falls open, and Kai hears Arthur give a gasp of astonishment.

For just a moment, Kai is tempted; he imagines what it would be like to gallop into battle at Arthur's side, or race him across the hills, on such a mount.

But he knows what he has to do.

He steps forward.

'I thank you, Mark. This is truly a generous gift. But I have no need of a horse. I am sure there are warriors among your own people who can put him to good use; but for myself, I must decline.'

There is a stunned silence.

'Your other gift, however, I will accept, and gladly. An apology from Mark of Cornwall; now, that is a rare thing indeed. One that few men have ever received. I am honoured by it. '

He holds out a hand.

For a moment, he is afraid that Mark may strike him; but then Mark recalls the watching Celts and forces himself to smile.

'Very well. As you wish.'

He clasps Kai's hand briefly, says his farewells to Llud and to Arthur, and at last he mounts his horse and turns to muster his men on their way.

Kai has no time to feel relieved; Arthur seizes him roughly by the shoulder as soon as the Cornishmen are out of earshot.

'What on earth were you thinking of? Spurning a gift from Mark of Cornwall? In front of the whole village, too.'

He is furious.

'I had no need of Mark's gift,' Kai says, trying to keep his voice from shaking. 'Nor do I wish to be indebted to him.'

'You refused a horse? For the sake of your pride?'

Kai says stubbornly, 'I have no need of one.'

'There are many others here who do.' Arthur is angrier than he needs to be. 'A man on a horse is worth ten on foot. Horses are more use to us than gold. And to turn one down when it is offered - a Cornish cavalry stallion, too -'

'I tell you, I had no need of it.'

'And what of our treaties with Cornwall? Do you not realise the risk to us all if you insult Mark? Did you learn nothing from what happened yesterday?'  
Kai is cut to the heart by his leader's disapproval, but can't tell him the real reason he refused Mark's gift.

Any more than Arthur can tell him the real reason behind his anger.

'Leave me alone.'

And Kai storms off down the track that leads to the forest.

Arthur watches him go, with a very thoughtful and worried expression on his face.

Arthur is not the only one who watches Kai leave the village; Mark notes out of the corner of his eye which way that flash of blond hair is heading. As soon as his party is out of sight of the village he gives a curt order to Pethig to lead the men on homewards, and doubles back to follow Kai to his refuge. This time he is in no mood to be gentle. He has been insulted, and spurned. And he knows that Kai left the village without even stopping to pick up so much as a dagger.

Kai is sitting on a fallen tree trunk in the deep forest clearing that is one of his favourite refuges when he needs to be alone. Or when he has a girl he wants to keep to himself for a while. His blond head is bowed to his knees, but he's too exhausted for tears. His head is pounding. He has lost his childhood friend, caused pain to Llud, made an enemy of Mark, and worst of all, angered Arthur, and perhaps hurt him too… He can't get Arthur's reproaches out of his mind.

Once again he doesn't hear the approaching heavy tread until it is too late.

Suddenly he is grabbed by his right arm and hauled to his feet.

'I have another gift for you,' a familiar voice says, in a tone of menacing sweetness. 'And this time you're going to take it.'

'Leave me alone,' Kai snarls. 'You have nothing that I want.'

It is empty bravado, and he knows it.

'You don't fool me,' Mark sneers. 'All that chasing after girls – it's because they don't satisfy you, do they? No girl can give you what you need.'

He grips Kai's arm tighter, twists it up painfully behind his back. Kai feels hot breath against his ear.

'But I can.' Mark is drunk, and dangerous.

'What you need is a MAN. Don't deny it. You know it's true.'

Kai can't deny it. And it is true. But the man he needs is not this one…

He may not have a choice, though.

Mark seizes him roughly by both shoulders and slams him against a tree. His big body smells of sweat, horses, leather. Kai struggles, but he knows it's futile; he fought this man only yesterday and is painfully aware of the frightening strength at Mark's disposal.

'Let me give you what you need.' Mark's breath is a sickening blast of stale mead; his wiry beard scratches against Kai's face.

'No –' Kai turns away, but to no avail; Mark's iron-hard hand forces his head round again.  
'Then I will take what I need.' Furious now, Mark leans in closer and covers Kai's mouth with his own, hungrily and violently, drawing blood.

A stifled cry of protest is ripped from Kai's throat as he feels Mark thrust in his tongue, almost choking him. The Cornish leader's muscular bulk is crushing him until he can hardly breathe. A big hand gropes down his belly, invades his groin, slides around to molest his rear, fumbling and squeezing in a clumsy attempt to arouse him. His mouth is released; but to his disgust, he feels Mark's hips move against his, the unmistakable hot swelling hardness pressing against him, grinding into him, defiling him. He is suddenly, terribly afraid of what may follow.

He can bear the pain, and the humiliation; but he cannot stand to think of Arthur's face when he finds out.

The panting, stinking breaths on his face grow faster and deeper, the pressure on his body more unbearable, until suddenly Mark curses explosively, and arches his back. Even though he knows this may be his deliverance, Kai is still appalled; the other man is coming, uncontrollably and violently, and pressed closely against him as he is, Kai cannot help but feel every jerk and shudder of it, and the spreading dampness seeping through his clothing. He stays as still as he can, fighting the urge to cry out.

Mark is finally spent, and draws back a little. He keeps his hands on Kai's shoulders, but Kai can breathe again. There is a silence, and Kai dares to open his eyes.

What he sees surprises him.

Mark's head is drooping; his anger and passion seem to have spent themselves along with his seed. He looks tired and ashamed, just as he did yesterday when he killed the Saxon; and suddenly Kai is not afraid of him any more.  
'That's enough,' Kai says, just as he did yesterday.   
'Please - ' Mark asks hoarsely.   
'No.' Kai looks him directly in the eyes. 'It's over. I swear to tell no-one. Just - go.'   
Mark backs away, but Kai stays leaning against the tree for support; he is afraid that if he moves, he may fall. The worst danger may have passed, but still he cannot afford to show weakness.

'Come with me.' Mark makes a final plea, although it shows in his eyes that he knows in his heart it is hopeless.

'Never.'

Mark's voice is low and cold. 'You don't want to make an enemy of me.'

'I don't want to make anything else of you, either.'

'I should kill you here and now.'

'You won't, though.' Kai looks at him steadily.

'Oh? And why not?'

'Because I understand you too well. I know how it feels to want, and be denied.' Kai can't keep the sadness out of his voice. He never thought he'd feel sorry for this man; but he looks at him now with compassion, and sees comprehension dawning on Mark's face. 'And now you know my sorrow, as I know yours. I give you my word; I will not betray you.'

Mark's eyes are downcast. He looks utterly beaten and ashamed.

'Nor I you,' he mutters at last, holding out a reluctant hand.

Kai cannot bring himself to take it.

Mark strides out of the clearing without looking at him again. Kai hears him swearing at his horse, and then the heavy hoofbeats pounding away into the distance.

Kai finds that he is shuddering from head to foot with relief and shock. The acrid smell of Mark's sweat is still in his nostrils; he feels violated, ashamed, and unclean. His skin burns where Mark's hands touched him, and there is the taste of blood and stale mead in his mouth. A sudden wave of nausea washes over him, and he has to lean against the chilly, rough bark of the tree and vomit, retching painfully again and again as though his body is trying to rid itself of some foul poison. He sinks to his knees, still heaving.

'Kai.'

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Arthur is kneeling beside him.

Kai groans. 'Leave me alone.' He can't face Arthur, not after what's just happened. He can't -

Another spasm grips him, and he doubles over in helpless misery. Tears run down his face, and he can do nothing to stop them.

'Not this time.' Arthur's voice is gentle, but brooks no argument. His hand on Kai's burning forehead is strong and cool. When the worst is over, he helps Kai to sit up, brings him water, takes off his own cloak and wraps it around his friend's shoulders.

It is some while before Kai can raise his head to say hoarsely, 'Thank you... How did you know I was here?'

'I saw which way you went out of the village. And I saw the look on your face. So I came to look for you, to say I was sorry, and then I saw Mark galloping off down the track as though seven devils were after him. I couldn't get here fast enough. I was afraid you'd had another fight and he'd killed you.'

'We had - an argument,' Kai mutters. 'But it's over. I – I gave him my word not to speak of it.'

Arthur looks at him sharply. 'Did he hurt you?'

'No.' But Kai knows that his cheekbone is bruised and his mouth is bleeding, and Arthur can see it; knows that there will be marks on his back and wrists and shoulders from today's rough handling, and that when they strip for bed in the longhouse tonight, Arthur will see those too.

Arthur sucks in a harsh breath. 'I have no right to ask. But it would be a kindness if you would tell me. I have to know the truth of it, Kai. Are you and Mark... did he...'  
'No.'

Arthur speaks slowly, almost to himself, working it out, as Kai is half-hoping, half-fearing he will. 'This morning… he said he was going to return the medallion to you… and he came back with a long face, and you came back afraid to be anywhere that I was not… did he try to give you something else along with it? And then he tried to win you in public with an extravagant gift he thought you wouldn't be able to refuse. And I gave you such a hard time for refusing it. I'm sorry. I didn't understand why…'

'It doesn't matter.'

'Yes, it does, Kai. I was wrong to be so hard on you. I drove you away, left you unprotected for Mark to try to win you over again. He might have killed you, or – or worse.'

'Worse? How could it be worse?'

Arthur looks away and says in a low, taut voice, 'He might have succeeded.'

Kai can't quite dare to believe he's heard aright; but then Arthur turns back to him and he sees the tears in Arthur's eyes, and he knows.

'He would never have succeeded.' His own voice sounds strange in his ears. He reaches out, cautiously, to lay a hand on Arthur's arm. 'I would never have given him what he wanted.'

'Never?' Arthur whispers.

Kai shakes his head, and smiles into Arthur's anxious eyes.

'Not to him, no. But to you, I would.'

 

They sit in the clearing together for a long time before they go back to the village.


	2. The Boar Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unsuccessful hunt leaves Arthur and Kai facing the consequences of Mark's actions

Crash.

The sound of the boar's approach echoes through the rain-soaked, leafless forest.

Arthur's hand tightens on Kai's shoulder. Kai looks round; Arthur meets his eyes, indicates the direction of the sound with a flick of his head. Kai nods, blows on his chilly fingers, and hefts his spear in readiness. Arthur picks up his own spear and loosens his dagger in its sheath.

Kai's brace of boarhounds know their work well. At a signal from their master they circled away behind the quarry to flush it from the thicket where it was lying concealed, and are now driving it back towards the clearing where Arthur and Kai are waiting, lurking behind a boulder ready for the ambush.

Kai shifts his grip, feeling his pulse start to race with the familiar excitement of the hunt. It's his turn today. He must be ready. He will only have one chance to strike, and it must be swift and accurate, leaping into the path of the boar to meet it head-on and thrust the spearpoint into its chest, allowing the weight and speed of its charge to drive the blade deep into the heart with deadly force.

Hearing the hounds give tongue close by, he tenses for the leap. Not too soon, or the animal will see him and swerve; not too late, or he will have no time to strike before he is trampled underfoot. He is a skilled hunter, and this is a contest that he loves. All the same, it takes courage to face a charging boar.

Arthur glances at Kai's intent face beside him and smiles to himself with quiet pride.

Crash.

The boar breaks cover through the thorn bushes on the far side of the clearing. It's a big one, still fat from its autumn gorging on acorns and berries, its tusks gleaming and its little red eyes fixed on its escape route, unaware of the hunters' presence behind the boulder. The hounds are close on its track, yelping with excitement. Kai takes a deep breath, counts the animal's strides: one, two, three…

He leaps from behind the rock and thrusts in the spear with practised skill.

Only this time he is unlucky.

Perhaps he struck a fraction too late; or perhaps he has misjudged the animal's speed in the fading light of the winter afternoon.

His stroke has gone awry, and the spear glances off the boar's shoulderblade instead of biting deep. His arm is jarred, throwing him off balance. Arthur leaps from hiding, spear in hand, but too late; his horrified gaze sees Kai stagger, boots sliding helplessly in the greasy mud, to fall right in the path of the boar.

Crash.

The huge animal breaks through the brambles at the edge of the clearing and thunders off into the forest. The sound of its passing fades away.

All Arthur can hear is the frantic beating of his own heart.

 

Kai apologises as Arthur picks him up out of the mud.

'I'm sorry. I should have let you take that one. He was a fine boar, too…'

'Damn the boar,' Arthur says. He feels weak with relief. 'Are you all right?'

Kai grins. 'Never better.'

That smile does something to Arthur's heart… he can't resist. Not any longer. He takes Kai by the shoulders, all filthy and wet as he is, and kisses him on the forehead, and eyelids, and cheek, and throat, and finally on the mouth. Kai makes a small sound of pleasure, reaches out and pulls Arthur close, his hands travelling down Arthur's spine, spreading over his buttocks, pulling their bodies together as if to mould them into one being.

Arthur is in bliss. He hadn't expected to meet with such a welcome. He is oblivious of the cold and the persistent drizzle, and of the danger that the boar might return, and of the gathering winter dusk. All there is in the world, is Kai; and for the moment that is all Arthur wants.

And he can feel that Kai wants him too. Kai's chilly hands slide around his waist, under his tunic, feeling for the top of his breeches to slide them down. Arthur reaches out to do the same. At last, at last, after having to wait for so long… His heart sings for joy.

He is a little clumsy with haste, and he knocks Kai off balance; they stumble backwards, still locked together, until Kai's back is against a tree.

Kai puts a hand out to steady himself against the trunk. The bark is rough and chilly –

And suddenly he is back at another tree. The tree where Mark attacked him.

A surge of remembered fear and revulsion runs through him. Abruptly, despite himself, he turns his head away from Arthur, and closes his eyes as though to block out the unwelcome images that flood through his mind. But he can still see them, still feel the shame, and the burning at the corner of his mouth where Mark's rough handling tore the skin and left a scar…

Dimly, through his own pain, he hears Arthur curse, and then footsteps going unsteadily away.

 

A whine, and a cold nose thrust into his hand, brings him to his senses. He's not sure how long he's been standing there, but it's already half-dark and he's shivering with cold. The hounds have returned and are anxiously standing at his knee, awaiting orders.

Mechanically he calls the dogs to heel and sets off to search for Arthur.

Fortunately, he hasn't gone far: after only a few minutes Kai sees a figure hunched against the bole of an oak tree, and hears a terrible sound he's never heard before. It takes him a little while to realise that Arthur is crying. Not the decorous, controlled tears that are normally all he permits himself, and then only in front of Kai, but a desolate, abandoned, high-pitched keening like a wounded animal.

Kai reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder, but Arthur shakes him off as though burned by his touch. 'Don't –'

'Arthur.' Kai is choked with tears. 'I'm sorry. I – I can't help it when that happens. I need you to be patient with me –'  
'For how much longer? It's been months. And every time –' Arthur dissolves into tears again.  
'Not every time,' Kai pleads, 'and it's not that I don't want to –'  
'Every time, Kai. Every single damned time I try. I can't go on like this. It's destroying me…'  
'I'm sorry,' Kai says again. It seems so inadequate. He shakes his head angrily. 'It hurts me too. But I can't do anything to stop it.'  
A sob shakes him. 'I'd pay any price to be free of the memory. To be free to – to give you what you need from me. What I want to give you. ..' He can't go on.

After a while Arthur rallies himself, draws a hand across his eyes. 'I don't blame you, Kai,' he says, wearily. 'You never asked for Mark to do what he did. '

Despite his own revulsion, Kai recalls Mark's shame only too well. 'He couldn't help himself,' he chokes,' he never asked for it to happen either. And I know how it is to want –'   
'I don't blame him for wanting you, Kai. That, I can well understand. But for what he did to you – to us –' Kai puts a hand cautiously on Arthur's shoulder, and this time Arthur lets it stay there '– for that, I will never forgive him.'

Kai's voice is low and fierce: 'I should kill him.' Arthur is about to agree when the look in Kai's eyes stops him. He can see Kai's shame at not being able to bring himself to face that contest.  
He turns away and begins to walk back across the clearing. Kai doesn't hear him say, in a soft but deadly undertone, 'Or perhaps I should.'

 

The atmosphere between them is strained as they go back to the stream where the horses were picketed, mount, and ride silently home through the winter dusk; and Llud's exasperation at their lack of hunting success doesn't improve things when they arrive home either. Arthur is in a black, ill-tempered mood all evening, and when they go to bed he tosses and turns for a long time after Llud is asleep and snoring. But Kai doesn't dare go over and try to soothe him.

 

Next morning Kai wakes early to the sound of steady rain on the roof, and a nagging unease: something is wrong.

With a sense of foreboding, he looks across to Arthur's bed. Arthur is gone, taking sword and shield with him.

Kai's heart goes cold.

 

He knows what Arthur intends.


	3. The Riverbank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai follows Arthur to the brink of the river

In the half-light of the winter morning Kai dresses swiftly, picks up his axe, and thrusts his dagger into its sheath on his belt. Llud stirs and mutters under his heavy sheepskin blanket; Kai halts for a moment and looks down at him with a pang of regret, then shakes his head angrily at his own folly. He cannot afford to delay.

He wraps himself in his big piebald cloak, picks up his horse's harness from the corner by the door, being careful not to let the buckles jingle, and goes quietly out of the longhouse. Once out of sight of the door he breaks into a run, pelting across the muddy yard to the paddock, where his horse is standing alert, ears pricked, under the thatched shelter. There is no sign of Arthur's white steed and the ground is too wet to show clear footprints, but Kai needs no such signs to know exactly where Arthur has gone.

Kai saddles up with the brisk efficiency Arthur has taught him over the years. The black stallion whickers with excitement; he knows this means war.

 

Kai is bending over to check the last buckle on the girth when a heavy hand falls on his shoulder. It's Llud.

'And just where do you think you are going?'  
Kai shakes his head 'That's my concern.'  
'And where's Arthur?'  
Kai shakes his head again. 'Gone,' he says through clenched teeth.   
'Gone? Gone where? Did you two have a fight yesterday?'

Silence.

'What is it, Kai?'  
Kai shakes his head yet again and does not answer.  
'Tell me, damn you!' Llud is suddenly furious.   
'I can't tell you.'  
Llud sighs heavily, his anger gone as quickly as it came. 'You can't tell me.'  
'No. Please, let me go, Arthur may be in danger, I have to go after him…'  
'Kai…' The old warrior is struggling to find the right words. 'Listen to me. When you rescued your Saxon friend and hid him, and I came so near to the truth, and I asked you what the matter was, and you turned your back and walked away…'  
His voice is suddenly unsteady. 'It broke my heart.'  
Disarmed, Kai stops fighting against Llud's restraining hand, and looks at his foster-father as though he's never seen him before.   
Very quietly, Llud says, 'You are my son; there is nothing you cannot tell me. Nothing. I may not agree; I may not approve; I may not understand; but if you are in trouble, I will always help you.'

Once again Kai does not answer; but this time it's because of the lump in his throat.

'I know of your feelings for Arthur, and his for you. I can see in his face and yours that it isn't always a smooth road that you travel together. I know I can't stop you from going after him; you always have, and you always will. But it would be a kindness to me if you would tell me where, and why.'  
Kai draws the back of his hand across his eyes and says hoarsely, 'Mark.'  
Llud's eyes widen in surprise. 'Mark? What's he got to do with it?'  
Then he sees Kai's face. It tells Llud more than he wanted to know.   
'Oh.' He doesn't need to add anything further. Their eyes meet and Kai nods grimly.

Llud lets go of Kai's shoulder.

Kai is in the saddle and turning the horse when Llud says, 'Let me go with you.'  
'And leave the village leaderless?' Kai looks down and shakes his head. 'This is our fight. Arthur's and mine. Your place is here; this is how you can be of most help. What if the Saxons attack while we're away? '  
He leans from the saddle, clasps Llud's hand briefly, kicks the horse into a gallop and leaves the village without looking back.

 

Llud stands thoughtfully by the track for a long time, until all sound of hoofbeats has faded into the distance.

 

Kai pelts off down the road westwards; he rides all day through the constant rain, only stopping briefly when it gets dark. He snatches some uncomfortable sleep on a muddy bank by the side of the road; before first light he is cantering down the track again. His horse is tired but doing his best; he knows as well as his rider the urgency of their mission.

On entering Cornish territory, Kai meets with no challenge. He heads for Mark's village, not knowing what else to do. Surely that is where Arthur will have gone.

It is after noon when he crests a rise and looks down the slope towards the river, and his heart lifts.

He is in time.

Through the rain he can see a stretch of level ground where the river has cut high, steep banks through the pasture on either side. Near the bend in the river he can see two small, distant figures circling each other: unmistakably, Mark and Arthur.

As Kai draws closer with what feels like painful slowness, he can see that Mark is no longer armed with a sword; he is parrying Arthur's strokes with what looks like a fallen branch, while Arthur circles around him, sword in hand, looking for an opportunity. Both men are exhausted. Mark's knees are bent and Arthur is moving stiffly and with care, trying to conserve his strength.

There is blood on Arthur's face.

Kai's heart is wrung; he kicks the horse to one final effort. But after only a few strides, disaster strikes: one hoof slides into a badger hole and suddenly the horse is falling, and Kai with it. Desperately he throws himself clear, landing heavily on his left arm; he hears the bone crack as he hits the ground. Head swimming, he struggles to his feet. His left arm is hanging numb and useless, and he can feel blood streaming from a cut on his forehead. The horse is a little way off; he can see that the poor beast is lamed, hobbling on three legs, unable to bear him further. Ignoring the pain of his injuries, Kai curses his luck and starts to run, stumbling on the slippery grass, the roaring of the swollen river filling his ears and masking the sound of his approach from the two combatants.

As he nears the bend in the river, his heart pounding in his throat and his breath short, he hears a cry; to his horror, as he looks up through the blowing curtains of rain he sees both warriors, disarmed now and grappling together, sliding irrevocably down the muddy river bank into the swollen torrent. Their bodies seem to fall slowly, so slowly, tumbling down the steep slope with limbs flailing, the splash coming faintly to his ears as he sees them both hit the water.

Kai flings himself forward with frantic haste, over the last few yards to the bank, barely able to keep his footing. He slips and falls headlong, sprawling on a patch of trampled ground; there is blood on the grass, and a glint of metal in a clump of rushes, but Kai is barely aware of it as he scrambles up and races to the edge, unwilling to face the truth and yet compelled to look.

Nothing is visible below him but churning, muddy water.

He screams Arthur's name, but his voice is drowned by the rushing of the river.

Suddenly, against all hope, Arthur's dark head breaks the surface. Kai catches a glimpse of an upraised hand, sees Arthur's beloved body being swept away downstream to lodge against the branches of a dead willow tree wedged part way across the river channel.

Kai staggers along the bank towards the roots of the tree, where the bank is lower. He watches in terror as Arthur struggles to pull himself up onto the trunk of the tree, out of reach of the river. Battered and breathless, Arthur coughs up a mouthful of dirty water, raises his head and looks about him.

And there is Mark; he has been swept past the top of the tree and is clinging desperately to some thin twigs on its downstream side. His grip is slipping as Kai watches him. In a few more moments he will be washed away…

A faint cry comes to Kai's ears above the surge of the water. Mark is in fear for his life; already weakened by his injuries, his big body's strength is failing. The greedy rush of the water sucks him inexorably away from the tree, washing the blood from the wounds striped across his back and shoulders, washing him into the swirling current. His head breaks the surface, struggling for air; his legs thrash uselessly in the muddy water. He looks up and sees Arthur watching; an expression of utter despair crosses his face. He expects no mercy from his adversary now. He closes his eyes so as not to see Arthur's triumph.

 

'Arthur!' Kai shouts again, and this time Arthur hears him, and looks up. Their eyes meet.

Arthur nods as though he's made up his mind, and starts to move, slowly and painfully.

Kai draws a shaken breath of relief.

And then cries out in horror.

Arthur is moving along the tree trunk, but to Kai's amazement he is not returning to the river bank but climbing further out, towards Mark. Kai yells again in protest, but Arthur can't or won't hear him. Summoning his remaining strength, Arthur heaves himself over the tree trunk and into the water, clambering over the branches and wading out until he is within arm's reach.

'Mark!' His voice barely carries over the noise of the torrent. But Mark's eyes open in surprise, and then in fear.

Arthur reaches out, holding onto a branch with his other hand. Mark hesitates, fearing some treachery; he shakes his head.

'Take it, damn you!' Arthur stretches out as far as he can. He grips Mark by one bloodied and bruised arm, ignoring the feeble resistance he puts up, and pulls him into the shallows by the roots of the tree. Unceremoniously he hauls him up the bank and with a final effort drags him away from the edge and dumps him on the ground in a shivering, unconscious heap at Kai's feet.

He does not say a word to his vanquished enemy, but turns away, as if he cannot bear the sight of Mark's body. He seems unable to speak; he looks to Kai, as if for comfort. Kai simply puts his good arm around Arthur's shoulders and holds him close for a few moments. He wishes they could stay like that for ever, but both of them are already too cold even to shiver, and he knows they need to reach shelter soon. Reluctantly, he lets go.

Arthur says quietly, 'Thank you… for coming after me.'

'I couldn't help you.' Kai's eyes fill with tears. 'I was too late…'

'No…you were just in time, believe me. But you're hurt.' Arthur looks at Kai with concern.

'A fall from my horse in my haste to reach you. Just my own carelessness. Broken arm – it'll mend.' Kai shrugs, then narrows his eyes at Mark's senseless bulk on the riverbank. 'You saved him.' There is a touch of accusation in his voice, as well as puzzlement.

'I had to; enemy or no, I couldn't just leave him to drown.' A grimace of pain crosses Arthur's face. 'I'll tell you about it later. But for now, we must be practical, or he'll die anyway. Where's your horse?'

'Along the bank a little way. But he's lamed, and if we put this great carcass on his back' – Kai kicks Mark's limp body vengefully – 'he'll fall over.'

Arthur puts his fingers to his lips and gives a shrill whistle; to their relief, his white stallion obeys the summons promptly, appearing out of the rain with Kai's poor limping mount following behind.

Somehow between them they hoist Mark onto the back of the white horse, wrapped in Kai's sodden cloak, and a sorry little procession heads for Mark's village. By the time they reach the gate, it is dark, and Kai is stumbling along in a nightmare of cold and pain, with Arthur's arm around his shoulders. He is aware of the welcome warmth and firelight of the Cornish longhouse for only a few seconds before his knees buckle and the world goes dark.


	4. The Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai has a nightmare, and Arthur has a worse one

Kai runs frantically through the dark, wet field towards the river, trying to shake off the wolf that is savaging his arm and holding him back. There is a gleam of light in the distance, a metallic reflection; he can't see it clearly but knows he must reach it somehow, even though some nameless horror lurks behind it. A slender tree runs towards him, strikes him on the head and disappears behind a curtain of falling rain, which is turning to blood as it hits the ground. He is weeping, calling out Arthur's name, but there is no answer. His legs feel like lead; he can barely move them. Something soft tangles his feet, and suddenly he is falling –

 

Kai wakes, his head pounding and his left arm on fire. A gleam of light catches his eye. For a moment he is afraid that he is still trapped in the dream; then there is a touch on his shoulder, and he looks up to find that the gleam is a torch in the Cornish guest hut, that his left arm is bandaged to a splint, and that his feet are tangled in the blankets.

And that Arthur is leaning over the bed, a borrowed cloak around his shoulders and his face full of concern.

'Kai?'

'A bad dream,' Kai mumbles.  
Arthur grins. 'That must have been some nightmare - I heard you from the next hut.'  
'It's already fading.' Kai reaches for Arthur with his good arm. 'How long have I been asleep?'  
Arthur squeezes his hand. 'Some hours. It's about midnight, I think. The healers gave us some sort of sleeping draught. But they never seem to work very well on me.'  
'Are you much hurt?' Kai looks anxiously at Arthur, who is very pale, his sword-arm wrapped in bloodstained bandages, and with livid bruises beginning to show on cheekbone and forehead.  
'Nothing that won't mend, given time.' Arthur shakes his head. 'Cuts and bruises, mostly. And I'm very tired. It was a long ride, and a hard fight…'  
He seems unwilling to say any more.

'And…Mark?'

Grudgingly, Arthur says, 'Mark lives.'

'So tell me,' Kai says, 'why you went after him.'   
'You know why.' Arthur's voice has an edge to it.  
'Yes, but why now? When there are rumours of a new Saxon threat, and we need our allies more than ever?'

Arthur sits down on the edge of the bed and heaves a huge sigh. 'You were sleeping,' he says eventually, 'and I looked at your face, and I saw the scar where he tore your mouth.' He speaks as though each word pains him. 'And I knew he had to die by my hand.'  
'Despite the alliance?'  
'Despite everything.' Arthur's voice is grim.  
'So why, despite everything, is he still alive?' A faint smile is on Kai's lips. 'Between you and the river, he should by rights be a dead man twice over by now. Did you have a change of heart on the way here?'  
The smile fades at the look on Arthur's face.  
'Arthur – what is it?'

The reply is a little while in coming. Arthur is choosing his words carefully.

'I had a change of heart as I rode here, yes. But not in the way you think; and I am not proud of myself for it. Kai, I wanted him to suffer at my hands, as you and I have suffered at his. A simple death in an ambush, or even in combat, would be too good for him. I was so angry. I kept seeing your face, that scar, the fear in your eyes as you turned away from me. I wanted him to know such fear too. So I made a plan.'  
'To frighten him?'  
'To get him alone, first.' Arthur's voice is like flint.  
'How did you persuade him to leave the village?'  
'It was easy. Too easy. I rode in through his gate as though I knew nothing of what had passed between you –'  
'And he believed it? And welcomed you?'  
Arthur permits himself a small, ironic smile. 'As far as Mark ever does welcome Arthur: with ill grace. But I was given food and drink, and then I asked him to ride with me to discuss this new rumour that has reached us, of more forces joining Cerdig from across the sea. The lies came easily to my tongue. I said I wanted to talk in private to avoid spreading needless alarm. He agreed readily.'

'Too readily, perhaps?' Kai asks.

Arthur sighs. 'I cannot be certain. But we rode out together as far as the river. Perhaps even if he thought you had betrayed his confidence to me, he thought he'd have a chance to rid himself of me with no witnesses. Either way, we stopped, I made as if to dismount, waited for him to get off his horse, pulled myself back into the saddle and hit him over the head with the flat of my sword from behind. He went down without a sound. I thought at first I'd hit him too hard…'  
He stops, biting his lip, as if uncertain whether to continue.  
Kai snorts. 'It would have been a lot simpler if you had.'  
Arthur shakes his head, but says nothing.  
'So…' Kai continues for him, 'You got off your horse to see, and he was only pretending, and he surprised you, and you fought…'  
'Something like that.' Kai is surprised to see that Arthur's fist is clenched and his face is very white. It must have been a very hard struggle. 'I was going to – to hurt him. And then drown him in the river. But very slowly. With plenty of time for him to know that he was going to die, and for me to tell him what I thought of him.' He cannot meet Kai's eyes. He seems ashamed of himself.

 

A memory flickers in Kai's mind. Something he can't quite grasp. A glint of metal…

 

'You'd disarmed him by the time I arrived, anyway. And hurt him pretty badly.'  
Arthur nods. 'Yes, I had.'  
'And then he got under your guard somehow and closed with you, and you both lost your footing and went down the bank into the river. I saw that part.'  
Arthur forces a tense smile. 'It's a good thing you showed up when you did.' He stretches wearily.   
Kai snorts. 'A lot of use I was. Lame horse – broken arm – and I couldn't even get to the river without falling over –'

 

Another half-glimpsed memory… tripping over something soft… blood in the grass… a slender tree…

 

'Kai, you arrived just in time. In time to bring me to my senses. To make me realise I had done a wrong thing, and was about to do a worse one. To kill an enemy in combat - or to hurt him in anger - is one thing. But I couldn't have lived with myself - or with you - if I'd just sat there in cold blood and watched him drown…'  
'I'm glad you didn't.' Kai smiles up at him. 'Despite everything… And now?'  
'And now… you need your rest, and I mine.'  
Arthur squeezes Kai's shoulder briefly, then gets up, straightens his tunic and pulls his cloak around himself before crossing the hut to the entrance.  
He lays a hand on the doorpost.

 

The memory comes into focus.

 

Kai says, very quietly: 'Bar the door.' Arthur turns in surprise.

'Stay with me…'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur winces as he struggles out of his tunic. He sits down on the edge of the bed and bends to take off his boots, then sits up again with eyes closed to draw breath. He wasn't expecting this, not so soon; but he cannot refuse Kai. He gets unsteadily to his feet, turns and looks Kai in the eyes. 'And the rest?' Kai says, looking away, as though distressed by the sight of Arthur's many cuts and grazes. Arthur hesitates, then shrugs, steps out of his breeches and stands there naked in the torchlight, still a little uncertain.

Kai draws breath in a harsh gasp. Suddenly he looks afraid.

'Kai – what is it?' Arthur keeps his voice very gentle. 'We don't have to do this if you're not ready for it.'

Kai shakes his head, his face set and resolute. 'I need to do this. And so do you.'

He reaches out a hand to draw Arthur closer; Arthur lifts the blanket, lies down carefully and shifts around trying to find a comfortable position. There isn't one.

Arthur rolls onto his side, ignoring the pain in his ribs, and puts a hand very gently on Kai's shoulder. Kai tries not to flinch. Arthur whispers, 'Put it somewhere it doesn't hurt, then.' Almost reluctantly, Kai lifts the hand across onto his chest; Arthur can feel Kai's heartbeat under his fingers. He moves himself a little closer, brushing his lips against the skin of Kai's arm. Kai whispers 'Arthur…' and suddenly, despite his guilt, pain and exhaustion, Arthur is hard. So hard it hurts.

He moves away a little, but he knows Kai has felt that touch of hot flesh on his thigh. He is embarrassed: 'I'm sorry –' But Kai turns his head, lays his cheek against Arthur's hair. His shoulders heave with what might be a laugh, or a sob.

Arthur shifts himself a little further up the bed, feels Kai's hand wrap around his length, moving with careful tenderness: up the shaft, and down, and up again; and then delicately, exquisitely, encircling the warm, soft folds of the foreskin to draw it back and expose the head. Arthur's heart is thundering; he has forgotten everything else in the pleasure that Kai is giving him... He feels a finger touch the dewdrop of moisture at his tip, spreading it out over the smooth surface, the ripples of pleasure shaking him to the core. Arthur moans softly, and thrusts against Kai's hand, begging him wordlessly to take hold again, to give him release.

Kai takes his time, moving his fingers in a gentle but insistent rhythm that Arthur is powerless to resist. Arthur holds back as long as he can – he wants this to last for ever, not to have to face tomorrow – but even his self-control has limits. His back arches, he cries out; he surrenders himself to Kai's touch and comes, sobbing and laughing by turns, in waves of ecstasy that seem to draw out his very soul and place it in Kai's keeping...

Suddenly, into the bliss that is enfolding him, there stabs a sharp and terrible sensation. A hostile weight is pinning him down, and something is gripping his bandaged sword-arm, twisting it behind his back. He feels the deep cuts re-opening, the warmth of fresh blood spreading down to his elbow.   
With a cry of agony he opens his eyes to find to his horror that his assailant is Kai.

 

An unfamiliar, white-faced, furious Kai, teeth bared in pain, with tears in his dark eyes.

 

'Did you enjoy that?' Kai spits the words in a hissing whisper.

'Kai –'

'Did you?'

Kai has surely taken leave of his senses.

'You know I did.' Arthur feels tears pricking his eyes. 'How could you doubt it?'

'So… Which of us did you enjoy more?'

'What?'

'Which of us?'

'Kai – I don't understand. Let go of me.'

But the grip on his arm tightens still further. The pain makes his head spin.

'How could you do this to me?' Kai is sobbing openly now. 'How could you – lie to me – lie with me – after – '  
He heaves a painful breath.  
'You rescued him – having come here to kill him. And I know what I saw. I know now. Your swordbelt was lying on the bank where I fell. It was his clothing I fell over. By the tree… did you tie him to that tree? And he - he was naked when you pulled him from that river...'

 

With a shock, Arthur realises what Kai is thinking.

And realises that he, Arthur, has made a terrible mistake.

'Kai.' Arthur's arm is on fire; it takes all his self-control not to scream. 'Look at me.'

Kai turns his head away.

'I said, look at me.'

Years of habit make Kai obey that commanding tone despite himself. Arthur holds his brother's gaze, willing his love and remorse to show in his eyes.

Very quietly, Arthur says, 'I did not lie to you.'

Kai shakes his head.

'No, Kai. I would never lie to you. But I admit my fault. I did not tell you the whole truth either...'

A hint of acceptance dawns in Kai's face; but still his voice is the bitterest Arthur has ever heard him use.  
'But you are going to tell it to me now. The whole of it. Or you and I can never be together again.'

He releases Arthur's arm, draws a hand across his own eyes.

 

'So tell me. What really happened on that riverbank?'


	5. The Slender Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur takes a terrible revenge on Mark

There was a slender tree on the riverbank.

 

An aspen, I think; though it is hard to tell for certain when the trembling leaves are gone. A little over a handspan broad, straight and tall, with pale, roughened bark and a stout branch forking off at just above shoulder height.

Just right for my purposes.

Aspens have deep roots, and their wood is strong. It bends, but it does not break.

 

My enemy. Mark of Cornwall. The man who had wounded me more deeply than I ever believed I could be wounded.

 

He lay at my horse's feet where he had fallen, crumpling soundlessly under my blow to the back of his head. His own frightened mount was fleeing, its hoofbeats swallowed up by the noise of the river. I slid to the ground and turned him over: still breathing. Good. But already his eyelids were beginning to flicker. Not good. I needed to work quickly. To be practical. Not to allow the rage and grief in my heart to overcome me. Not yet…

 

I pulled his boots off and began to drag him over the wet, tussocky grass towards the tree. No easy task. His limp bulk was a sodden, dead weight, and to move him was almost beyond my strength. But the tree was close, and I was angry and determined. I tugged, and kicked, and swore; and when that failed, I summoned the image of Kai, and the scar I see on his face and the deeper hurt I see in his eyes whenever I look at him, or touch him, and he has to turn away from me. Tears filled my own eyes and mingled with the rain, and I shouted aloud in fury, and Mark's body jerked across the last few yards and came to rest right where I wanted it.

 

At the bottom of the slender tree.

 

I took my dagger and cut the leather tunic from his back, ripped the linen shirt from beneath it, and fashioned a makeshift rope. It would have been easy, so wonderfully easy, to slip the dagger between his ribs; but death was too good for him. I wanted him to know my anger.

 

I wanted him to suffer at my hands, as we have suffered at his.

 

Somehow I hauled him to his feet, facing the trunk of the tree. He was beginning to mutter and twitch. He smelled of sweat, and horse, his skin slippery with the rain. I shrank from touching him more than was necessary. His eyes opened, unfocused; he struggled weakly. But he was no match for my anger. I tied his wrists together, one arm on each side of the forked branch, knotting the wet linen as tightly as I could. I pulled his sword from its sheath and flung it away, out of reach. Then I set my teeth and took my dagger again and cut through belt and breeches, ripping them away, exposing him to the wind and rain. And to me. I felt no pity for his shivering flesh. None. I had been waiting for this moment ever since I'd left the longhouse to come in pursuit of him. The moment when he would wake up, and see my face.

 

And know what I was about to do.

 

His eyes rolled and he twisted his head round, and knew me. Fury contorted his bearded face, followed by panic as he tugged at his bonds and realised his own naked helplessness. He thrashed and kicked and swore, spraying droplets of spittle and sweat, but to no avail. The tree bent and swayed, but held firm.

 

Very slowly, making sure he was watching me, I drew my sword and my dagger and placed them on the ground.

Then I unbuckled my belt, slipped it out of the scabbard loops, and ran it unhurriedly through my hands.

A long, leather belt, black, decorated with metal studs shaped like four-petalled flowers.

Beautiful metalwork, but a little sharp at some of the corners.

He went quite quiet then.

I wrapped one end of the belt around my hand, caressed its supple, heavy length, and swung its free end thoughtfully. It went whistling through the air to flick the top off a nearby dead thistle with a satisfying impact.

 

Crack.

'Arthur.' Mark's voice was pleading now. 'Don't do this.'  
I believe I was smiling. 'Is there good reason why I should not?'  
'I – I went away. Accepted my defeat. I left him alone, unharmed – left him for you –'  
'You left NOTHING for me!' My own scream of anguish surprised me. 'You took from him what should have been mine by rights. Left him bleeding, and ashamed, and afraid. Afraid… even of me.'  
'I did not violate him…' Already Mark was beginning to realise it was useless to argue. 'I did not…'  
'You could hardly have done more harm to him if you had.' Tears choked me, and a red rage filled my soul.

'You made my Kai afraid, damn you. Afraid –'  
Crack.  
The leather whined through the air; its tip licked across his wet shoulders, leaving a jagged, red welt.

'And now –'  
Crack.   
He twisted round as the second stroke fell, crying out as the sharp edge of a stud tore viciously across his ribs.

'– you are going to –'  
Crack.   
A lower blow, at waist height, raising a spray of blood that stained the pale bark of the tree.

'– pay for that.'  
Crack.   
Across the shoulders again, laying the skin open. Red rivers flowed down his pale back, spreading and mingling into a sheet of vivid colour across his buttocks, dripping down his helpless legs into the mud.

'I am going to make you –'  
Crack.   
A flash of metal as the gleaming, deadly length slashed through the air to bite into my enemy's belly and humble his pride.

'afraid.'  
Crack. The hardest blow of all, whipping into him with the full force of my rage and hate behind it, working the lash around his flank to rip away a piece of skin two fingers broad. He whimpered in terror; I think he truly believed I would kill him. And at that point I think I believed it too. He sagged limply against the tree.   
The sight of his bloody, naked flesh sickened me, but I could not turn away.

Those hands bruised my Kai's shoulders, that body crushed his, that mouth tore at him… I had seen the marks on my beloved's body, even though he tried to hide them from me. And I saw the ones on his soul, too. The ones nobody else can see.

The pain I had inflicted on Mark's body was not enough to satisfy me.

I wanted more.

I flung the limp belt aside into a clump of rushes, picked up my dagger from the trampled ground and gripped the hilt.

When my breathing grew steadier, I went to stand by my shivering enemy, clasped him by the chin and showed the weapon to him, keen and bright and cold.

'Don't move.' My voice was equally cold.

He whimpered. 'Please –'

'If you move, I will kill you.' I lifted the blade and caressed his face with it, pressing the flat of it to his cheekbone, sliding it down and into the corner of his mouth. 'I have something to give to you.' I moved behind him and leaned against his flayed back, pressing him against the tree, feeling him flinch and shudder despite himself.

'A gift from Arthur. Something to remember me by.'

And I jerked the dagger hilt, just a little, just enough to make the tip tear into the tender skin. He made a small, frightened sound, his eyes rolling to show the whites.

There was a lot of blood, more than I had expected. I drew back and wiped what I could from my face with the back of my free hand, keeping the dagger pressed against him.

Then I moved in close beside him and put one hand about his throat, feeling his rapid pulse under my fingers, gripping the windpipe to half-choke him. With my other hand I moved the dagger point to the back of his neck, just hard enough to let him feel it without breaking the skin, then trickled the deadly, cold metal delicately, almost lovingly, all the way down his spine, across the torn and bloody landscape of the wounds I had inflicted, sensing his utter terror and disgust along with his pain. I wanted him to feel what Kai had felt, and more: I wanted to know something on my own account of what had passed between them. To know just what it was that Kai was afraid of… My stomach heaved, but I forced myself to continue, sliding the smooth, chill blade into the valley between his buttocks, slippery with blood, and stopping just at the point of breaching him.

 

He whispered bitterly 'Animal…'

I hesitated then. Looked at my hand, and realised where it was, what I was about to do.

And I came to my senses at last.

I was appalled. This was not what the world expected of Arthur. This was not what Arthur expected of himself. I was behaving no better than Mark himself had done. If anything, my actions were worse, because premeditated; and after all, Mark had not committed that final act. And he had tried to leave Kai unharmed to return to me, or at any rate he had stopped short of killing him. My anger died, and was replaced by shame, and by a curious sympathy. That fear that my Kai must have felt, that same fear that I knew Mark was now feeling, was a wrong thing to inflict on on anybody for any reason.

 

Even for love.

I hesitated for a moment, then carefully withdrew the bloody dagger. My hand was unsteady and the wet hilt was slippery; it slid through my fingers to land on the grass. I stepped backwards to pick it up, but as I bent to do so, Mark gave a final, desperate tug at his bonds, and the wet fabric gave way.

A savage blow to my head sent me reeling, and as I stumbled towards my sword my enemy was upon me, roaring in fury, with my dagger now in his big hand. A flicker of movement, and I felt the blade cut deeply into my right arm, hot blood bathing my elbow and a fiery pain running up to my shoulder.

All thoughts of shame or remorse were driven out of my head; my sole purpose now was to reach my sword and defend my life. I ducked and feinted, pretended to stumble, let Mark's weight carry him past me; then I snatched up my weapon, ignoring the pain in my arm, and turned on him. He parried my first two blows; but the third was too fast even for him, and I caught the hilt of the dagger and flicked it out of his hand. It arced away out of reach. Undeterred, Mark picked up a knotted oak branch from the ground, and came at me with hatred in his eyes. His weapon was longer than mine, and heavier, if less accurate; and his anger was greater, if not his strength.

And my sword arm was failing me.

We circled each other, seeking a weakness.

I glanced up and thought I saw a horseman on the horizon, between the blowing curtains of rain. But at my next glance he was gone.

That brief distraction was all Mark needed; he lunged at me and with a vicious blow knocked my sword out of my hand. He swung at me and missed; I leapt in beneath his arm and grappled with him. Somehow I crushed his fingers and made him drop the branch. Then all was bloody sweat, and mud, and hot breath, and foul curses in my ears, and confusion; and next moment he gave a cry and we were falling, locked together, into the icy water of the river.

It was cold, so cold; and suddenly there was my enemy, at my mercy, waiting for me to destroy him.

And there was my beloved, waiting to see me do it.

But I could not.

My head was telling me that I should let Mark drown; he knew too much about me, he would be a risk to my reputation as a leader. And he could shame me in front of Kai or indeed in front of all my people if he so chose. But my heart told me that that would be no more than I deserved, for my treatment of him; and that although Kai might have wished Mark dead on his own account, he would not wish me to have that death on my own conscience. Had I thought before I went raging off in pursuit of his assailant, I would have remembered that he has never liked me to fight his battles for him. No, Kai might be screaming at me to save myself, but I knew that in his heart of hearts he would expect nothing less of Arthur than to do right by a fellow Celt, even such a one as Mark.  
So in guilt and shame I gathered my strength and went to my enemy's rescue, and dragged him out of death's clutches in the nick of time, out of the icy water and onto the bank where Kai was waiting for me.

 

My Kai. My heart. I should have trusted him from the beginning. Keeping the truth from him was wrong. And staying here with him was yet another wrong, perhaps the worst of all the wrong things I have done today. But I could not bear to have him turn away from me in disgust, as perhaps he is going to very soon. And when he asked me to stay… I wanted him so much. I shut away my feelings, all my rage and shame and fear, and let my body take what he was offering, without even questioning it. I should have known he would see through me. He knows me so well. I am not surprised he took such revenge.  
And now he is waiting patiently for me to tell the tale. My poor, beloved, suffering Kai. I can see the doubt in his eyes. How can I ever make him understand? But I have to try. I will need all my courage to force myself to admit the truth.

This will be the hardest battle that Arthur has ever fought.

 

My own voice sounds strange as I begin to speak.

'There was a slender tree on the riverbank…'


	6. Torchlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Kai make up

Long before Arthur's hesitant, husky voice has finished telling his story, Kai has painfully rolled himself over and is lying face down with his head buried in the crook of his right arm. When Arthur finally stumbles to a halt and opens his eyes again, he realises that Kai is sobbing silently, his broad back heaving and his tangled blond hair catching the torchlight with each broken breath.   
Arthur's heart is wrung, but he dares not reach out to give comfort.  
Kai is so close, Arthur can feel the warmth of his body, and longs to touch it; but he is afraid that what he has just said may have put Kai utterly beyond his reach.  
And that will be no more than he, Arthur, deserves.

Kai lies with his mind and heart filled with darkness, hiding his eyes from the light. Even though Arthur's assault on Mark is not the one he had initially feared, Arthur's story is not an easy one to listen to. He can picture the conflict only too well: the tree, the rain, the blood, the hideous violence drawn from the deepest places of Arthur's soul and visited on Mark in revenge, not so much for what Mark took from himself, but for what Mark took from Arthur.

Kai had not realised, even when he came upon Arthur weeping in the woods, the depth and savagery of Arthur's frustration.   
But he realises it now, as the awful tale unfolds. And he sheds bitter tears, not for himself, but for Arthur.

Who was wounded beyond bearing, through no fault of his own.  
Who turned aside so far from his better nature that there may be no way back from his guilt and shame.  
Who saved the life of Kai's worst enemy.  
And who thought that Kai would not love him enough to forgive him.

 

But Kai does; only he has no idea how to begin to tell Arthur so.

After a while, Kai runs out of tears, and lies still and exhausted; the hut is silent. He longs for sleep to take him, to numb the pain in his arm and blank out the whirling thoughts in his mind, but sleep will not come to him. Eventually he lifts the protective arm away from his face, turns his head on the pillow, and looks across at Arthur.

Arthur is still awake too, lying on his back, rigid, dry-eyed, staring at nothing.  
He is so close, and yet so far away, gone somewhere Kai cannot follow him.  
But maybe he can call him back.

He has to try.

Kai whispers, 'Arthur…'

Arthur cannot bear to look at him. But after a while, a faint voice murmurs, 'How did we come to this?'  
Kai shakes his head. 'I don't know. Some… madness took us all. Or perhaps the gods were envious of our good fortune.'  
'Good fortune…' Arthur's tone is very bitter.

Kai falters in the face of Arthur's hopelessness. 'We were together –'  
'Until we were torn apart.'  
'We were together,' Kai says stubbornly. 'And we will be again.'  
'I wish I could believe that. But after what I did today –'  
'You had good reason.'  
'Did I, Kai? Reason to behave like an animal? Reason to lie to you?'  
'Arthur, I –'  
'You must hate me!'  
Kai draws a deep, painful breath. 'No.'  
Arthur turns his head away and says in a small voice, 'I hate myself.'  
'I know.' Kai's voice is very gentle. 'But I don't hate you.'  
'You should.'

Arthur is trembling.

Kai reaches out very carefully with his good arm and takes Arthur's cold hand in his.   
He takes another deep breath.

'I love you.'

A dry sob shakes Arthur's body.

'Arthur. Come back to me. Don't leave me alone in the dark. Please.'

Silence; but the cold fingers slowly, cautiously curl themselves around Kai's warm ones.

Kai holds on tight, and waits.

'I was a coward,' Arthur murmurs reluctantly at last. 'Afraid to tell you what I had done. I thought – I thought you would turn away from me, as you did from him. And I was ashamed. I behaved no better than he did.'  
'You saved his life.'  
'Out of guilt, mainly. And then I did not trust you enough to tell you the truth.'  
'But I know it now.'  
'Stop trying to be kind to me. I don't deserve it.' Arthur shakes his head despairingly. 'I deserve nothing. I do not have the right even to ask for your forgiveness –'  
'Receive it as a gift, then.'

Silence, again. Kai forces himself to keep trying.  
'I forgive you… every wrong you think you have done me today. If you can forgive me.' Kai's voice shakes. 'For taking you in anger – for using love as a weapon of revenge against you – and for thinking the worst of you, when I hadn't even troubled to hear your whole story –'

And at last, Arthur turns his head and looks into Kai's eyes.

Kai's heart turns over.

There is still hope. This is still his own Arthur, in spite of everything.

Arthur struggles for the words Kai no longer needs to hear him say; he can manage only a broken whisper.  
'Kai… my Kai… I am so sorry…'   
'Sshhh.' Kai moves closer and kisses him very gently on the mouth.

After a little while, they break apart, and Arthur sags exhaustedly along Kai's side, his face buried in Kai's neck.   
Kai strokes his back and shoulders in gentle reassurance, feeling the taut muscles relax as Arthur's body absorbs the warmth of his own. Gradually Arthur stops shivering and his breathing slows. He is beginning to believe, to be comforted, to let his guard down… Kai's exploring hand stops suddenly as it meets the tattered remnants of bandages, the warm stickiness of fresh blood. He draws a breath, sits up, swings his legs out of bed.

'What is it? Where are you going?' Arthur's voice is tense.  
'You're bleeding,' Kai mutters gruffly, consumed by guilt. 'We need to get that arm of yours cleaned up.'   
'The healers can do it in the morning.'   
'No.' Kai shakes his head. 'Now. The wound may turn bad. We can't afford to have your sword arm out of action.'

There is some linen and a basin left by the healers on the bench; Kai pours water and returns to the bedside, ignoring Arthur's protest.  
He works quickly as the torch burns low: strips away the bloody bandages, drops them in the embers of the fire, washes the wounds and binds the arm as well as he can with his one good hand, flinching in sympathy whenever Arthur winces at his touch. By the time he is done, Arthur's forehead is beaded with sweat and his teeth are clenched in pain. He has not allowed himself to make a sound. Kai looks at him with concern.   
'I'm sorry.'  
'It had to be done.' Arthur tries to smile. It is a somewhat wan and uncertain smile, as though he has forgotten how; but it is another small step along his road out of the darkness.

Kai smiles back with pure joy.

Then he turns down the blanket and looks at Arthur. Just looks, as though he's never seen him before; as though he's trying to commit every detail of him to memory before the torchlight fades; as though Arthur's exhausted, bruised, battered body is the most beautiful sight he's ever seen.

Arthur lies quite still, and lets him.

After a while Kai heaves a huge sigh, takes another piece of clean linen and dampens it in the water pitcher, and wipes the sweat from Arthur's face. Then lovingly and carefully he begins to wash the rest of him, throat and chest and shoulders and the bloody grazes on his ribcage, moving on to clean the remains of his earlier spill from his belly, and gently down into his groin and around the limp, curled manhood, feeling a twinge of guilt at having so misused it.

Arthur's eyes are closed; he murmurs 'Thank you' as Kai pulls the blanket over him again.

Kai stands beside the bed in the last guttering flickers of the torch, and washes himself clean too, gritting his teeth at the pain in his arm.

He looks up, and sees Arthur watching him.

As the torch finally goes out, a hand reaches out and draws him back down onto the bed.

After a short, blissful silence, an anxious voice asks 'Did you really mean it? You can forgive me?'  
Kai chuckles in the darkness. 'You're still here, aren't you? Or is that just because you don't have the strength left to get out of bed?'  
A snort. 'No. Because you don't have the strength left to kick me out.'  
'I wouldn't kick you out even if I did.' Kai's voice is suddenly serious again.  
'No..' Arthur says thoughtfully. 'Not, at any rate, to judge by what I saw before the torch went out... ' He strokes Kai's belly, reaches down, lays a hand on him.  
Kai says softly, 'My body can't lie to you, even if I can.'   
Arthur kisses him again. 'I didn't think you would want to do this. Not tonight, and possibly not ever again.'  
'I didn't think you would be able to let me. I thought I might have driven you away.'   
'But I am, as you so rightly point out, still here.'

 

Even in the darkness, Kai can tell that Arthur is smiling. He rolls onto his side, presses into Arthur's hand, lifts his face and seeks Arthur's mouth. He is tired beyond exhaustion, aching in every muscle, and his splinted arm is in agony with every movement, but he doesn't care any more. He is with Arthur. And Arthur has come back to him. That is all that matters for now, whatever tomorrow might hold.

Weary and sore in body and in heart, and still a little uncertain, they are very gentle with each other. Kai reaches down to take Arthur in hand too, but Arthur shakes his head; stops him. For a few moments, Kai is afraid that Arthur is recalling his earlier betrayal, but then Arthur kisses him again, very softly and lovingly, and whispers, 'I haven't the strength to take, as well as give. And you need it more.' Kai cups his hand affectionately over Arthur's groin for a few moments, then withdraws it, surrendering himself to the pleasure that Arthur is offering him. Arthur's hand around him moves hesitantly at first, as though afraid of rejection; but as Kai's length firms, so does Arthur's confidence, his fingers sensitive to every tiny detail of Kai's response, his lips warm and yielding. They are no longer worlds apart but one being, one mind. Arthur's grip tightens on Kai's hardness, sensing that the end is close. He strokes him firmly, evenly, working his fingers over the tip, sliding down the shaft to press around its base. Suddenly, Kai can bear it no more; he buries his face in Arthur's neck, pushes against Arthur's hand, and lets go. He comes very quietly, with no more than a soft gasp and a shudder, a ripple under Arthur's fingers, and a sudden warm dampness between their bodies; but his ecstasy is as deep and as joyful as that of any abandoned passion.

 

After a little while, his breathing slows, and he relaxes onto Arthur's shoulder and says quietly, 'Thank you.'  
Arthur strokes his hair. 'No sign of Mark, this time?'   
'No…' Kai's voice is thoughtful. 'It seems you truly defeated my enemy today.'

Arthur is sliding inexorably into sleep; his voice is warm with love.

 

'In truth, Kai my heart, I think in the end you defeated him yourself.'


	7. The Bull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur confronts Mark

Kai is jolted into sudden wakefulness by a tapping on the door of the guest hut. Sunlight is piercing through a gap in the doorframe and striping the bed with brightness, falling on Arthur's exhausted face beside him and bringing it into sharp focus.

The door is barred. He remembers now, and draws a sharp breath as he recalls the night just past.

Another tap on the door, more insistent this time. Kai mumbles something, and scrambles out of bed to unbar the door, wrapping a blanket hastily around himself and wincing from the pain of his injuries.

The Cornish healers – two taciturn women in middle age – seem unsurprised to find Arthur in Kai's bed, instead of in his own. They ask no questions but simply set to work, removing the bandage that Kai had re-tied, nodding in approval at finding the wounds beneath it clean and already beginning to close again, applying some kind of green salve with a sharp smell, and expertly binding Arthur's sword arm in clean linen. Arthur lies quiet under their skilled hands, his eyes closed; he is very pale beneath his bruises, and Kai is concerned for him.

The healers' strong accent makes their speech hard to follow, but they give Kai to understand that Arthur is not sick but has pushed himself beyond his strength; that he needs sleep, and warmth, and quiet; and that they are looking to Kai to provide these things. And if he doesn't, they say, looking severe, they will move Arthur to another hut. There are strict instructions. Plenty of water while he is awake, food if he wants it, but no mead, no talk, and no visitors. For at least the next two days. And if his bandages come loose again, Kai should call for the healers: two hands are better than one… day or night. One of them permits herself a small and knowing smile. She props Arthur up and helps him to drink some kind of sleeping draught. Kai finds himself sitting on the bench to have his own injuries inspected by the other; the head wound is bathed and salved, and the splint on his arm re-tied. He flinches as she pulls the bindings tight. It's his own fault, she says, for trying to do too much. He too needs rest. They will come back in the evening.

As they gather their gear to leave, Kai overhears Mark's name. He asks politely after their lord. They look at him with assessing eyes. Mark has had a rough night but he will live. He was badly injured. They cannot tell Kai how badly, since their lord has threatened them with death, or worse, if they breathe a word; but perhaps, they suggest by the merest raised eyebrow, Kai already knows more than they do.

A serving woman comes a little later with food and a pitcher of water. Kai props the door ajar to let in the wintry sunlight and clean air, and returns to his seat on the bench, his back against the wall, watching Arthur's peaceful profile and the steady rise and fall of his breathing under the blanket. He does his best to banish yesterday's events from his mind. He knows this is just the calm before the storm; but for the moment, simply to sit here and gaze at Arthur is enough.

After an hour or two the sun has moved across the sky and Kai is cold, and yawning. He closes the door, adds another log or two to the fire, spreads his own blanket back across the bed and crawls in beside Arthur.

But sleep will not come to him.

This man beside him, sleeping so peacefully: who is he? Kai thought he knew, but the savage emotions and pent-up violence he saw yesterday were those of a stranger. This man beside him saved his own worst enemy's life. Why? From guilt, or from love, or because it was what he thought Kai expected of him? What does Kai expect of him? Kai himself is not certain that he knows any more.   
They both have many good reasons for wanting Mark dead, and few for wanting him alive.  
And yet Mark is alive, and sooner or later he will recover, and then what? Will he seek vengeance, or reconciliation?  
Will Kai ever be able to look at Arthur in quite the same way after the events by the river, or will there always be a shadow between them? Last night he managed to convince himself that this is still the man he knows and loves. But is he? Or has he been irrevocably changed, and gone beyond Kai's reach for good?

Eventually Kai's churning thoughts are interrupted by Arthur rolling over with an enquiring murmur:

'How long have I been asleep?'

'Hours… it must be midday at least by now.' Kai sits up. 'There's food, if you want it.'

Arthur shakes his head. 'I'm not hungry.' But when Kai fetches him water and helps him to sit up, he drinks it gratefully.

It is cold in the hut. Kai fetches more wood from the pile outside the door, and kicks the fire into life. He is not really hungry either, but he makes himself eat. Then he burrows back under the blankets and lies back with his arm behind his head. A sigh escapes him.

'What's wrong?' Arthur is looking at him with concern.   
'Nothing that won't keep for a little while. I don't want to talk about it. Not today. I just want to rest.'  
Arthur moves over to lie alongside him, pressed against his flank. Kai slides his good arm under Arthur's shoulders and pulls him closer, to feel his warmth.   
He breathes in the familiar fragrance of Arthur's hair, and is a little comforted.

But Arthur is still concerned.

'Kai. What is it? Tell me.'

Kai stays silent. He doesn't even know where to start.

Arthur sighs, turns on his side and reaches up stiffly with his bandaged arm, to lay a hand on Kai's chest.

'Talk to me. You'll get no rest until you do. You're as taut as a bowstring. Did you lie awake all morning?'

Kai grits his teeth as if in pain, and finally mutters reluctantly, 'I saw your face as you were watching him in that river. I've never seen you look like that before. And now…'

'And now you're worried that Arthur is perhaps no longer Arthur.'

Kai can't speak.

'I admit it. I was not myself yesterday. I let my anger get the better of me, and it took me to some dark place I've never been. But you came in time, and called me back.'

He raises himself on his elbow so he can look into Kai's troubled eyes.

'And here I am. A little older, and wiser, and very much ashamed of myself; but still Arthur. Trust me. I know that's a lot to ask, and I have no right to ask it. And we have many difficulties ahead of us, you and I. But I promise you, Kai, we will be together. If that is still what you want.' He looks away. 'And I will not blame you if it is not.'  
'You know it is.' Kai's voice is rough with emotion.  
Arthur shakes his head. 'I'm not sure I know anything any more.'  
'Then you'll just have to trust me, too.' Kai feels his heart lighten. 'It seems we still have a long road to travel, but know this. I will stay with you to the end. No matter who you turn out to be.'   
Arthur smiles, despite the tears in his eyes.   
Kai draws his head down for a kiss. 'Will that do to be going on with?'

To judge from Arthur's response, it would seem that the answer is yes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the healers bring Kai's piebald cloak to the hut, washed, dried and mended, without a word of comment beyond the customary raised eyebrow. They are pleased to see how much Arthur has improved since their brief visit of the previous evening. But it will be at least two more days, they say severely, before Arthur is fit to travel. Meanwhile he must rest. This last is directed at Kai, who does his best to look innocent.

The day passes peacefully. Gradually, Arthur's strength is returning; he is able to eat a little, and he is given no more sleeping draughts. Kai tends him carefully and patiently, asking no questions but listening with a willing ear whenever Arthur needs to talk.

~~~~~

'Mark never set out to do me harm.'

'But he did harm you.' Kai sits down on the edge of the bed. 'What he did justifies your actions.'

Arthur shakes his head. This is the third time today they have gone over the same ground, and it is still tormenting him. ' If he had known that we were together, and tried to take you from me, then perhaps there would be an excuse for what I did. But there is none.'

'You were angry. And hurt. And I'm the one said I should kill him. I meant it, too.'

'I am ashamed of myself. I gave in to my animal nature.'

Kai looks at him with love, and decides the time has come for a more direct approach. 'It's the only thing that you're really afraid of, isn't it?'

Arthur is on his mettle at once. 'What is?'

'Losing control,' Kai says. 'Letting your anger dictate your actions, letting your guard down. That strength of yours is a two-edged sword. When it holds you up, it holds you up higher than the rest of us; but if it should fail, you fall further and harder.'

'Then I need to be sure that I never let it fail again.' There is a brittle edge to Arthur's voice. 'Because I cannot live with the shame of it.'

'I remember the first time I saw you lose your temper.' Kai chooses his words carefully. 'We were only small. You had a fight with a boy a little older; I remember being truly afraid of your fury. And there was a lot of blood. Llud leathered you good and proper and told you that your behaviour wasn't in keeping with your position. You were so ashamed, you couldn't speak to either of us; you didn't go out of the longhouse for three days. I don't even recall the boy's name or what he did to offend you. But I've never forgotten what Llud said afterwards. Do you remember?'

Arthur shakes his head. 'It was a long time ago.'

'Llud told you – told both of us – that when you do something really wrong you will never be free of your shame, but that instead of letting that shame drag at your heel and hold you back, you should take it by the throat and master it, and have it walk at your side to keep you wise. Perhaps you should take his advice.'

Arthur gives a faint smile. 'Perhaps I should. Llud's advice is usually sound. But I admit, I'd forgotten that. Or maybe I just didn't want to remember.'

He heaves a huge sigh. 'And at least I don't have Mark's death on my conscience. Thanks to those healers, and you.'

There is a short silence. Then Kai dares to ask the question he's been putting off all morning. 'Why did you save him?'

'I wasn't going to.' It isn't an easy admission for Arthur to make. 'I was going to sit there and let him drown, until I saw you there on the bank and I knew… I couldn't. You would expect Arthur to do the right thing. I had to save him. I couldn't have stayed with you knowing I was a murderer. And you would have found out what else I did, sooner or later. His body would have been found, even if I'd never found the courage to tell you myself. There would have been no way back for me if I'd let him die too. Your last shreds of regard for me would have been washed away along with him.'

'If you'd died trying to save him, I'd have thrown myself in that river too.'

'I know… I knew I had to be careful. Very careful.'

'And now we will both need to be very careful for a while.' Kai puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder. 'Or we may still both be washed away.'

That evening, Kai finds himself finally telling Arthur the whole story of Mark's assault on him. It is not an easy tale for him to tell, or for Arthur to hear, but Arthur listens patiently, holding him close.

Afterwards, they dry each other's tears, and Kai is afraid his tale will have rekindled Arthur's anger against Mark; but he is relieved to find that if anything it has had the opposite effect. Arthur is contrite. 'Kai, I am sorry. I should have asked you to tell me sooner. You told me only what you thought I needed to know, and otherwise we never spoke of it. We let it fester, like a closed wound. I never asked you to tell me the whole story and it never crossed my mind that you might be glad to do so. If we'd talked about it, brought it into the open, perhaps it would never have poisoned my thoughts as it did. And if I'd been more patient – waited until you were ready –'

Kai shakes his head. 'You wanted me too much. And when you want like that, and cannot have, it unbalances your mind. Affects your judgement.'

'Is that what happened to Mark?'

'Perhaps.' Kai is thoughtful. He feels weary and drained after laying all his shame bare to Arthur, but he is more at peace than he has been for many months. 'I am not yet ready to forgive what he did. I may never be able to do that. But I do understand it. He is one of us… one of those whom women do not satisfy.'

'He chose the wrong man,' Arthur murmurs sleepily.

Kai settles Arthur's head comfortably on his shoulder. 'I was more fortunate. I did not.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, the healers bring a message: Mark asks to speak with Arthur. They set a pitcher of mead on the table as well as one of water. It seems Arthur's recovery is nearly complete.

When they have gone, Kai helps Arthur to dress, sensing his apprehension.

Arthur pauses in the doorway. Kai sets a hand on his shoulder. 'Do you want me to come with you?'

'My thanks,' Arthur says, looking into Kai's eyes, 'but this is something I must do alone. I cannot always have you at my side, much though I might wish it.'

He kisses Kai briefly on the cheek, then resolutely pulls away and crosses the yard towards the healers' hut.

Kai feels a surge of relief, and then despises himself for his own cowardice.

He stands in the doorway and watches until Arthur is out of sight.

The morning crawls by and Kai waits anxiously, pacing the floor. After two whole days in Arthur's constant company, he is at a loss without him; the hut seems empty and dismal. Several times he almost sets out to follow Arthur, but turns back at the threshold. He is afraid Mark may hurt Arthur. He is afraid that they have made enemies of the Cornish people, at a time when they need their allies more than ever. But most of all – he is still afraid to face Mark himself. He let Arthur go alone. He was pleased that Arthur chose to go alone… He hates himself for it.

By the time Arthur comes back, wearing the same set, ice-bound expression he had on the riverbank, the pitcher of mead is empty.

 

Arthur can't or won't speak at first.

Kai holds him, breathless and impatient. 'What happened? What did he say? Did you –'

Arthur is stiff and resisting in his arms, and turns his head away. Kai slides his hand under Arthur's hair to rest on his cheek. But Arthur drops his head and can't meet Kai's eyes. He is shaking.

'Arthur – don't do this. Don't shut me out. Not now. Please –'

Kai's head is swimming; his need and his fear are overwhelming. Arthur pulls away and stands looking at the wall, fighting for control.

His silence is more than Kai can bear. His anxiety and shame boil over.

'I've been waiting here all morning. I need to know how things are with Mark. Tell me.'

But still Arthur makes no answer.

Kai erupts into fury. 'Talk to me, damn you!'

'I can't.' Arthur's voice is bleak. 'Not yet. I need time…'

Kai groans with frustration, strides over to the table, grabs the empty pitcher and hurls it at the wall. It shatters; his anger shatters along with it. He stands very still, staring at the jagged fragments, for a long time before he turns back to Arthur.

'I'm sorry.' He feels limp and empty. 'It's been a long morning. But it must have been ten times harder for you than for me.'

He walks quietly back to Arthur and lays a hand cautiously on his shoulder, expecting rejection; but to his relief Arthur turns willingly into his embrace. Kai holds him gingerly, as though he is some delicate thing of glass that might shatter like the pitcher, and asks no more questions.

 

After a while they go and sit side by side on the bench; there is a long silence. Finally Arthur speaks, in a remote, deliberate, expressionless voice as though suppressing great pain.

 

'I made him show me what I had done.'

Kai picks up his mead cup from the table and finds there is a little left in it. He hands it to Arthur and asks quietly,

'Was it bad?'

Arthur nods, and swallows. 'It was bad. Worse than I had allowed myself to remember. But he said – that I had done still worse damage to myself; and when I agreed, he looked at me as though he'd never seen me before…'

'And?'

'And I think, at last, we understand each other.' Arthur puts the empty cup back on the table and heaves a huge sigh. 'We are bound in mutual shame. He told me he would still like to kill me, but that, much as he personally despises me, he knows that the Celts have little chance of weathering this new Saxon onslaught if they are all fighting over the leadership. And he also admitted that he owes me his life, and he knows you were witness to that.'

'Does he think that I betrayed his confidence?'

'I told him that you did not. That I found you after his assault and drew the obvious conclusion. And that you knew me too well to believe my lies about what happened by the river.'

'And he believed you?'

Arthur looks into Kai's worried eyes. 'Why should he not?'

'He knows how things are with us.' Kai lays a hand on Arthur's thigh.

Arthur sets his own hand over Kai's. 'I know he does; and I told him again, to make sure of it. I was not kind; but I wanted him to be under no illusion that he has any prospect of ever possessing you.'

'Will he not try to kill me, for revenge against you?'

'I made him swear to me that he would never harm you.'

'And you believed him?' Kai's eyes are wide with surprise.

'It surprised me too, Kai. But yes, I did.'

Kai snorts. 'You are too trusting, Arthur.'

'No, Kai.' Arthur's tone is thoughtful. 'I have seen men lie, many times. Enough to know when a man is telling the truth. And between Mark and myself there is nothing left but the truth. He told me that he would never be able to harm you, any more than I would myself. And when I asked why I should take him at his word, he was silent a long while before saying, very grudgingly, that it was not just his body that had driven him to seek you out. And that was all he would say. But it was enough.'

There are tears in his eyes.

Kai is astonished. And not just at Mark's admission. 'You feel sorry for Mark?'

'Kai, I would be sorry for any man who had to give you up. But it's more than that. When I took revenge on him, I took more than just the skin from his back. I took much of his pride, his certainty, his authority. He will find it much harder to lead his people, after this. And for that, too, I am sorry.'

Arthur sighs heavily.

'The bull has lost his horns. He will never be the same again.'


	8. A Rare Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai has to force himself to face Mark too

Later that afternoon, Arthur lies in an exhausted sleep, but Kai is still wakeful, and not just because his head is aching from the mead. A tight knot of shame gnaws at the pit of his stomach. Two nights ago he told Arthur that his enemy was vanquished. Arthur himself said that Mark was a broken man. And by Arthur's account, Mark no longer threatens either Kai's body or his life.

So why is Kai still afraid to face him?

Arthur sleeps on, his breathing quiet and even. Kai sits with his head in his hands, hating himself for his weakness. Eventually he can bear it no longer. Time to take Llud's advice. If his shame is holding him back, he needs to conquer it; and he needs to do it now, before Arthur wakes and gives him some welcome excuse to delay. Resolutely he pulls on boots and cloak and slips quietly out of the hut, without even allowing himself a glance at the sleeping Arthur, lest he weaken and turn back. The yard is deserted; it seems very wide and bright after the gloom of the hut. The healers' door is standing ajar. Kai doesn't let himself stop to think; he simply opens it, and goes in.

The healers are not there. But sitting in a carven chair by the hearth, facing the door, is Mark.

Kai is frozen into stillness. Mark looks up, but Kai cannot meet his eyes.

'So… Arthur has sent you to view his handiwork.' Mark's voice is low and bitter.  
Kai shakes his head; his mouth is dry. 'Arthur doesn't know I am here.'  
'But you wanted to see for yourself. Mark of Cornwall, brought low. Punished and shamed and defeated. By Arthur.' He spits into the flames. 'By trickery.'

Kai takes a step forwards, towards the hearth. 'That is not why I came.'  
But Mark is not listening.  
'Proud of himself, is he?'  
'You know as well as I do that he is not.'   
A sneer crosses Mark's bruised face. 'As well as you do? Hah. Probably better. I saw what happened to him when he stripped this cloak from my back this morning; I'll wager he didn't tell you the whole of it.' He nods as he sees the doubt on Kai's face. 'You think he bravely looked on my injuries and then gently and kindly replaced the cloak… No. He took one glance, turned milk-white, and had to stagger away and heave his guts out into the pail. He didn't tell you that, did he?'

Mutely, Kai shakes his head.  
Mark snorts. 'I thought not.'

A silence falls between them.

Then Mark sighs, and drops his gaze. 'Our brave leader. On his knees and weak as a kitten. And it was I who had made him so... And no, I was not proud of myself either.' He is no longer sneering. 'When he took the whip to me, I thought you were just an excuse. He'd always reckoned that I needed cutting down to size, and he'd found a reason to do it. But this morning…' He trails to a halt.  
'You saw that his hurt was real,' Kai says quietly.  
Mark nods. 'It didn't make me like him any better. Still doesn't. But at least now we understand each other. And we need to work together against these cursed Saxons.'

'And Arthur saved your life,' Kai reminds him.  
'Yes, and I hate him for that too. So very magnanimous, and so very Arthur. He can take full credit for it, knowing that I can't tell anyone how it really was. But you know and I know – he would have let me drown if you hadn't turned up.'  
He looks up.   
'I should kill you for what you know.'  
'If you were going to do that, you would have done it by now.' Kai's own calmness surprises him.   
'And I should kill you rather than let him have you.'   
Kai swallows hard. 'You know I would prefer to die than let you have me.'

He forces himself to look at Mark, challenging him; but Mark is now the one who looks away.  
Kai realises that Arthur was telling him the truth.  
This man cannot hurt him any more.

'I am Arthur's,' Kai says quietly. 'Body and heart. Always have been, always will be. I can do nothing to change that. And neither can you.'  
He turns to leave the hut.

As he puts a hand on the doorpost, Mark says 'Kai.'

'What?'

'I'm – sorry.' He forces the words out between gritted teeth.

Kai turns slowly back to face him. 'An apology from Mark of Cornwall?' A slow smile spreads over his face. 'A rare gift… and costly, too.'

'Few men have ever received one.' There is the merest ghost of a smile amid the tangle of Mark's beard. 'Never mind two. But don't expect another one in a hurry.'

The smile fades as quickly as it came. 'The cost is too high.'


	9. The Cornish Stallion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Kai cover some new ground, and this time the gift horse is just a horse

Arthur is standing anxiously in the doorway of their hut when Kai returns through the gathering winter dusk.

 

'No need to ask where you've been. But you should have told me you were going.'

 

'You were asleep,' Kai says. 'And I didn't want to have any more excuses not to face him.'

'Well?' Arthur's voice is brittle with tension.

Kai puts an arm round his friend's shoulders. 'You needn't have worried. And neither need I.'

Arthur relaxes a little. 'I couldn't help it. And I began to understand why that mead jug was empty when I got back this morning. So I went to the longhouse and fetched another one.'

Kai grins, and pulls Arthur close. 'Well, what are we waiting for?'

As they share a cup of mead, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the bench by the wall, Kai tells Arthur of his meeting with Mark, and chides him a little for not telling the whole story. But only a little. Kai cannot bear to be unkind to Arthur for long. Not tonight. He is released from his shame, he has overcome his fear, and his heart is light. There may still be troubles ahead, and a need for caution in their future dealings with Cornwall; but tonight he is with Arthur, and he is happy, and all thoughts of the future can be put aside for the moment.

But then Arthur sets the empty cup down on the table, and says, 'I think we should set out for home tomorrow. We have been away too long already.'  
Kai feels a shadow fall over his heart. 'Are you fit to travel?'   
'I expect I'll manage.'  
'You're still not back to full strength –'  
'We can go slowly.'   
'And my arm's still strapped –'  
'You can ride one-handed if the pace is easy.'  
Kai shakes his head doubtfully. 'Perhaps we would do better to wait another day or two.'

Arthur looks round at Kai, and grins. 'I know. I don't want to leave this hut either.' He takes Kai's face gently between his hands. 'My heart, were it up to me I would ask nothing more than to be with you, shut out the rest of the world, and leave the fighting and the responsibility to others. But that is not my fate. Nor is it yours. All we can do is take every opportunity that comes our way to be together, and be thankful for it.' He leans forward; his eyes are shining in the firelight.

'And tonight is one such opportunity…'

His lips brush Kai's, and the shadow is banished.

'And I am thankful for it,' Kai says quietly.

He lifts his head and lets his mouth open to Arthur's, just a little, inviting him closer. Arthur's lips part, just a little more, their touch soft and warm as he accepts the invitation. His breathing is unsteady; he winds a hand into Kai's hair and draws him closer still, opening wider, his kiss firmer, the invitation becoming a challenge. Kai presses against Arthur's side and meets the challenge, taking Arthur's mouth with all of his own, spreading his fingers across the back of Arthur's neck to pull him in and hold him, turning his head so they fit together completely, moulded into one. Arthur makes a small sound in his throat; his tongue slides into Kai's mouth, sending a shudder down Kai's spine. They have never kissed like this before, and suddenly Kai wonders what else they might do tonight that they have never done before.

They break apart, gasping, and look at each other. Then Arthur stands up, reaches out a hand to pull Kai to his feet, and leads him across the room to the bed.   
'More?' He is grinning.  
'More. Now.' Kai grips the hem of Arthur's tunic and pulls it over his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The woollen blanket on the bed is prickly against Kai's naked skin, but he has long since ceased to notice it; Arthur's touch is like silk, like river water, like licking flame. Kai can't get enough of it. Arthur is teasing him: starting, and stopping, moving around Kai's body to stroke his thighs with gentle fingers, or brush over his nipples with a sweep of that raven hair, or run the softest touch of lips along the aching length of his erection, or run the hot tip of his own hard prick over the smooth skin of Kai's belly. Kai moans and writhes with pleasure and longing. He had thought he wanted Arthur before, but now –

Now he knows what it is that he really wants.

He rolls over to lie face down.

Offering himself.

Arthur catches his breath. 'Kai –'

For a heart-stopping moment, Kai fears that Arthur may refuse the gift; but then he feels Arthur's hands on him again, running down his spine, cupping the curves of his buttocks, parting them gently. He hears an indrawn breath, and knows Arthur is looking at him. Assessing this new and unfamiliar territory. He does his best to lie still, although his heart is pounding in his throat and his own swollen prick is pressing uncomfortably against his belly.

'How do we do this?' Arthur's voice from above him is quiet and thoughtful. 'I don't want to hurt you.'

He moves himself carefully between Kai's legs, spreading him wider; Kai feels a brief touch of Arthur's hardness and bites his lip with the effort of holding himself back.   
He forces himself to speak. 'I think… it might be easier if… there were something to lift me up.'   
He doesn't want to admit that he knows this because he once took a girl that way, wondering what it would be like with Arthur.  
'I think you may be right.' Arthur gets off the bed and returns a few moments later with Kai's folded cloak. 'This looks as though it might help.'  
He rolls the material up firmly, and reaches under Kai's body to lift him up and slide it in beneath him.

It's too much.

Kai shudders at his touch, gives a despairing wail, turns onto his side, and comes in a great rush, like a flood tide.

'Oh, Kai.' Arthur wraps a hand around Kai's length, to give him something to push against as the spasms subside; then lies down beside him and holds him gently. 'It's all right. We can still – that is, if you still want it –'  
'I do still want it. But I'm sorry about this.' Kai looks down, embarrassed. 'I'll clean it up –'  
But Arthur shakes his head, smiling. He runs two fingers through the slippery wetness on Kai's belly. 'Later. For now… this looks as though it might help, too.'

It does help.

Arthur coats his fingers with as much as he can gather of Kai's spilled seed and runs them slowly and steadily down into the valley between his buttocks, feeling his way to the place where he will enter him. Kai lies quiet, looking into Arthur's eyes, trying to steady his breathing and slacken his taut muscles. He doesn't know very much of this; but he does remember how the girl cried, because he was impatient, and she was afraid, and he hurt her. He doesn't care, for himself; but he doesn't want anything to spoil this, for Arthur.

Arthur puts the cloak back in place and Kai lies prone once more, with Arthur kneeling behind him. He closes his eyes; feels Arthur spreading him, stroking him; feels his body relaxing and opening up. He is ready.

Two fingers slide into Kai's mouth and out again. They taste of his own come: like earth, or wet flour.

Then Arthur presses a wet finger into Kai's entrance, moving it gently but firmly until Kai's body permits it to slip inside. Kai is breathless; he has dreamed of this for so long. But none of his dreams has prepared him for the reality. He writhes, and presses back against Arthur, spreading himself still wider until there is room for a second finger beside the first. Already he is hard again. 'Arthur –'  
'Kai.' Arthur's voice is soft with love. 'My Kai.' He moves his fingers a little further in.  
Kai keens with pleasure. 'Arthur…'

And then he knows it's time.

'Take me.'

Arthur draws a harsh breath, and gently withdraws his fingers. Kai hears him spit into his hand; he is making himself wet. Then the probing fingers are back, opening the way; Kai feels the heat of Arthur's prick, pressed against him, then entering him, breaking him apart. Arthur is trying to be gentle, and he has prepared Kai as carefully as he could, but he is big, and inexperienced, and desperately hard; it hurts.

Kai doesn't care. He moves a little from side to side, shifting to ease the pain, feeling Arthur slide further in.

It is terrifying, and beautiful; never before has he dared to make himself so completely vulnerable, nor has he ever felt so utterly trusting. He can tell that Arthur is trying to hold still, to give Kai's body time to accept his presence within it; Kai feels a rush of love at Arthur's unselfishness, and tilts his hips to take him deeper. Arthur gasps, and pushes into him, unable to resist any longer, and Kai hears himself cry out, pierced by a sudden, exquisite pleasure that seems to come from the very centre of his being. Arthur withdraws a little, but Kai follows him, wordlessly asking for more; they begin to move together in a slow rhythm, each responding to the other. Kai cries out once more, twice more, and then feels Arthur draw back, struggling for control; but this is a battle he isn't going to win. His hot, hard length pulses and shudders, and suddenly he is coming, calling Kai's name, thrusting helplessly into him, and they are swept away together.

Later, when they are clean again, and lying wrapped around each other in blissful warmth, Arthur says quietly, 'I'm sorry I hurt you.'  
'You didn't.'  
'Yes, I did, Kai. I know it.'  
Kai smiles. 'I can't hide anything from you, can I?' He ruffles Arthur's hair affectionately. 'Very well, then, yes, you did, a little. But no matter. The pleasure was worth a hundred times the pain. And next time it'll be easier.'  
'There will be a next time?'  
'If you wish it.'   
'I do wish it.' Arthur's tone is serious. 'And I promise you, I shall still wish it after every next time, no matter how many there may be. Although...'  
'What?'  
There is a ripple of amusement in Arthur's voice. 'Although, if there are very many next times, that cloak of yours is going to need laundering again...'

Kai laughs, and pulls Arthur to him for one more kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Kai is packing the last of the saddlebags while Arthur goes to see to their horses and tell the village of their departure. Kai hears the door open behind him; he turns, expecting Arthur.

Instead, it is Mark.

'May I speak with you?' He is formal and polite.  
Kai nods, but he is wary, even after their talk of the previous day.   
'Walk with me to the gate. Arthur's waiting for you.'

Kai picks up the bag, gives a last look round the hut that has been their refuge, and goes out into the chill morning air.

Mark walks slowly beside him, unsteady on his feet, leaning resentfully on a walking stick and muttering into his beard. 'Damned thing. It's like being an old man. But I'll throw it away at the first opportunity. If I don't break it over the head of one of those cursed healers first.'  
Kai interrupts him. 'What was it you wished to say to me?'   
'Two things. First, that I yield the prize to my opponent. I wish you well. But if he should harm you –'   
Kai is affronted. 'He will not.'   
Mark grimaces wryly. 'No… being Arthur, and therefore perfect, I don't suppose that he will. But please do assure him, if he does' – the grimace turns into an evil grin – 'I will kill him.'   
'I thank you for your good wishes,' Kai says, tactfully. 'And the second thing?'  
'A purely practical matter,' Mark says. 'Your horse is still unfit to bear you. So I have taken the liberty of providing you with another one.'

They round the corner of the longhouse and look towards the gate. Arthur is standing there, holding the reins of his white horse; and beside him, black and sleek, is the Cornish stallion.

Kai stops dead in his tracks, alarmed. But Mark says very quietly, for his ears alone:

'Don't worry. This time, I promise you, it is only a horse.'


	10. Coda: Washed Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur needs to let go of one final thing

Once out of sight of the village, Arthur halts, and turns to Kai.  
'There is something I have to do.'  
Abruptly, he turns his horse's head in the direction of the river. His face is grim, and Kai asks no questions, but follows.

The bend of the river looks very different today; the water is placid and gleaming in the sunlight. Arthur dismounts near a stand of willows, and hitches his horse's reins to a branch.

'Wait here for me.'

Kai watches him as he crosses the tussocky grass near the slender aspen tree, his head bowed, casting back and forth across the ground as though looking for something.

Then Kai remembers.

A gleam of metal in a clump of rushes…

The belt. Arthur's sword belt. They cast the remains of Mark's clothing into the river in the gathering darkness, and picked up the weapons from the trampled grass, but they couldn't find the belt.

Kai slides from the black stallion's back and tethers him beside the white one.   
He is unfit, after his stay in the hut; he is breathless by the time he catches up with Arthur.

'Arthur –'

Arthur turns and frowns at him. 'I said, wait.'

Kai puts a hand on Arthur's shoulder, pained but undeterred by Arthur's harshness. 'I know what you're looking for. I know where it is. When I fell down, trying to reach you… I saw it. But I didn't know then what it was I was seeing. It's in the rushes, over there.'

It takes him a little while to find the spot, but sure enough, the black leather belt with its gleaming studs is still lying in the clump of rushes. Kai feels a surge of remembered fear and horror. He wonders what Arthur must be feeling.

Arthur says nothing as he picks up the belt and looks at it.

Holding it in both hands, he walks slowly and steadily across the grass until he is standing by the aspen tree. Kai follows, puzzled.

Arthur stops, looks at the tree, and uncoils the belt, handling it as though he is reluctant to touch it.

And then Kai knows what Arthur is thinking: that he should put it back on and wear it as a constant reminder of his shame.

Kai shakes his head, takes the belt wordlessly out of Arthur's hands, strides to the riverbank, flings the belt in and watches it sink.

Then he turns back to Arthur and holds him until he stops shaking.

 

They remount and ride for home.


End file.
